


home has always been with you

by withoutwords



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Bipolar Mention, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Minor Angst, More Fluff, Some Minor S4 Spoilers, canon based, moving in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: Isak finally caught on, spluttering around his coffee, “Wait, you want to move in withme?”Even had laughed about it for a long time.





	home has always been with you

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something to fight against this writer’s block that’s kicking my arse. many thank yous to okaywhateverokayyes for the very kind words about my skam writing. hope you all enjoy this x

Once all the boxes are inside, and all the necessities are unpacked – toilet paper, sheets, lube, that picture Even drew of them both that Isak pins on the bedroom wall – they order pizza and sit on the floor and let the boys plan all the parties they think they’re going to have.

“We thought we’d wait a while before we had any major structural damage to the place,” Even deadpans, picking bits off his slice.

“Oh yeah?” Mahdi asks. “How long’s that?”

“Umm, a month? Two? What do you think, Isak?”

“Next year?”

Magnus boos. “Of all the people to get a place of their own it had to be you two snoozers.”

“Harsh, man,” Jonas says, while Even just laughs and throws some food at Magnus’ face. It’s like a domino effect, Isak backing away while the four of them are suddenly pelting whatever they can find across the room amongst the chorus of shouting and laughter.

Isak takes a picture and sends it to Sana, captioned, _look at all the fun you could have been having._

She just texts him back a picture of her socked feet and the television in the background

He can’t argue.

*  


Even didn’t really _ask_ him, was the thing. It was more that he dropped vague little hints that sounded like -

“I should move out of home,” and,

“I wonder what a one bedroom place would cost,” and,

“Could I live alone, though? I mean I’m very needy. You know that.”

 - until Isak finally caught on, spluttering around his coffee, “Wait, you want to move in with _me_?”

Even had laughed about it for a long time.

Sure, it was never going to be that simple. They had things to consider. They had their family, their friends, with their slow nods and gentle sighing and -

“Are you sure you’re ready,” and,

“What if it doesn’t work out,” and,

“We just love you so much. We just want what’s best for you.”

Isak was breathless with all his reasoning, with all his long, poetic speeches about taking chances and life is now, and _if we spend our whole lives being afraid what are we ever going to learn?_ Besides, the best thing to happen to Isak _was_ Even.

What else could they want for him?

*  


When Isak moved out from his mum’s place, he had a cardboard box and a backpack. Some clothes, and some trinkets, any gifts that Jonas had given him on his birthday. It wasn’t much, but he hadn’t thought about it.

He’d felt like he had nothing anyway.

This time, everything feels endless. His belongings, yes, but everything else he hadn’t realized he would feel – this had been his sanctuary, and these had been his saviors, and he’d been leaving a lot of his safe spaces lately, but not the good ones.

It was always going to hurt.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Eskild had said, forlorn, curled up in the bedspread while Noora went around the room like she was taking in the dimensions.

“It will be weird without you,” Linn conceded.

“I’m not going far.”

“Yeah,” Noora had backed him up, coming over. “Isak will visit us all the time, won’t you?”

“You’re just glad to have your room back,” Isak had teased, and her answering grin had meant he’d miss her even more.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

The night before he was moving out they had a cake, the four of them and Even. Eskild had said, _well you didn’t get one when you came out_ , and had lit a candle, and had told him to make a wish, _even if they’ve already come true_.

“Thank you,” Isak had said into the quiet, swallowing around the lump in his throat, seeing Eskild’s tears. “Thanks a lot.”

*

They lie together on their mattress on their floor and stare at the ceiling. They talk together quietly, a familiar rumbling that feels as much like home as this house does. They joke about new curtains, and getting a pet, and whether their new neighbours will be Frank Ocean fans.

With Even around, he’s sure it won’t take them long to be converted.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Even says, playing with Isak’s fingers where they were settled on his chest. Isak hums, curling in closer.

“Do what?”

“Let’s get all the bad stuff out of the way. All the bad things that might happen now that we live together.”

Isak huffs. “We’ve been here like, twelve hours.”

“Yeah, so we can spend the rest of our time focusing on all the good stuff.”

Isak would like to argue some more, but he’s tired. From the moving, and the cleaning, and all the sleep they hadn’t had because they were too busy celebrating the fact they were finally alone with each other.

“Okay,” Even starts. “We’ll fight more.”

“Why? Because you ate all my chips?”

“They _are_ delicious,” he agrees. His hand tangles in Isak’s hair, rubbing circles, and Isak feels the deep breath Even takes more than he hears it. “I could be hard to live with. It’ll be harder to get away from me when I’m - ”

“The same way I’ll be harder to get away from when I’m having a tantrum about something.” Isak cuts in. “Or my feet smell, or I leave my dirty clothes everywhere, or -”  


“Okay, okay, I get your point,” Even hushes him, pushing at Isak until he’s on his back and nuzzling at his throat. “We might break up,” he says to the tender part of Isak’s ear lobe, Isak’s hands tightening a little.

“We might,” he agrees softly. “Or we might get married, and have lots of kids, and grow old together in this little apartment while everything else falls apart around us.”

“That’s very romantic,” Even tells him. “Have you ever thought of getting into movies?”

“No. But you owe me one, remember?”

“I do.” Even sits up a little and smiles and Isak has to reach out his free hand to touch at his cheek. He always needs to touch, to know. “I owe you a lot.”

*  


Isak never knew lust before. He thought he did; he thought the vague interest in Sara, in Emma, might have been _something_. He wanted to convince himself it did.

Except then he met Even, and his whole world view changed.

He felt hungry, _desirous_ , like he was filling and filling but could never get full. It was better, now, with their own space; until they had to be around other people. How did he stop looking, or touching, or _thinking_ about looking and touching when he wasn’t?

“Try not to undress me before class,” Even teases, his lips against Isak’s as they’re huddled in a quiet corner. Isak pulls at Even’s shirt, pressing their foreheads together.

“Let’s just go home.”

“Sure, sure, Mr. Ten Percent.”

“Fifteen.”

“The headmaster doesn’t like you, don’t lie.”

Isak laughs. He breathes in through his nose, and nudges Even away, saying, “Okay, okay. Just, let me…”

“Let you what? Calm down?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” Even says, and then pulls Isak back in. He’s a hypocrite, really, a _traitor_ – he’s just as bad as Isak is. He likes to wake Isak with lingering kisses, or distract Isak with lingering kisses, or stop Isak mid-sentence with lingering kisses. He’s _worse_.

When Sana says, “Halla,” behind them in that twinkling way that she does which always means, _you guys are hopeless_ – Isak finally manages to pull himself together.

“Sorry,” he says once Even has said goodbye. She fixes him with a look.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I just don’t want to be one of those couples that everyone looks at like, ew, gross, look how in love they are.”

Isak loves to hear Sana laugh. “Oh, well. Too late.”

*  


They do argue. A lot. About what music’s better, and what to have for dinner, and whether or not to go out on a Saturday night instead of staying home and gaming (Even likes to go out at random times, find new places, _be present_. Isak likes to sleep).

Their first real fight is about Mikael.

Which doesn’t become apparent for a while, with Even stomping around the house, and slamming things, and making snide remarks about whatever Isak does until Isak finally snaps and asks him what the problem is.

“Sana told me you were asking about Mikael,” Even all but yells, throwing some dirty clothes back in the same place he’d found them. His hair’s all askew, and Isak fights the urge to step over and run a hand through it.

“Well, when I asked you all I got was some joke.”

“It’s not a joke!”

“Then _tell_ me.”

Even makes a rumbling noise low in his throat, looking away. “You _know_ I messed up at Bakka. You _know_ I had to leave there.”

“Yes, but you never told me _why_.”

“Why? _Why_? The same why it always is – because I can’t stop myself from doing stupid shit sometimes. I can’t control this. You know that.”

There’s a pause.

“It doesn’t,” he starts quietly, gently, wanting to go over there and grab him fiercely but knowing Even has to make the first move. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t have real friends. That you didn’t get hurt too.”

“I did. We all did.”

“Okay. Well. I’m sorry. That I went to Sana. I just … I guess I felt like I was suddenly on the outside looking in. You know? That maybe she knew, and you knew but I …” Isak can’t help the guilty tremor that shakes down his spine. He’s making it about himself again and it’s not, none of it is. “It was selfish, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just.” Even flops down on the sofa, and reaches out a hand. “Come here.”

Isak does, sitting beside him and curling in, like he always does. Like one of those flowers that moves towards the sun.

“Let me tell you the story.”

*  


When they have their friends around for dinner it’s at a table they got for free from a friend, with cutlery Even found at a thrift store. Even cooks and Isak cleans and by the time everyone gets there they almost feel prepared for it.

“You’ve had us all here before,” Jonas reminds him as he’s setting up the music.

“Yeah, but not _all at once_ ,” Isak hisses, looking over to where the crowd has gathered. They’d spent half a night trying to calculate how much floor space they’d need to the point that Even got out a calculator and a ruler.

“It’ll be great,” Jonas says, with his hand around Isak’s shoulder. “What’re you worried about?”

“I don’t know? It all feels so real.”

“It _is_ real.”

Isak looks over to where Even’s laughing with Mahdi, where Magnus and Vilde are murmuring in the corner, where Noora and Sana are helping Eskild prepare some salad.

“Don’t let anyone tell you different, Isak.” Jonas puts his arm around Isak now, pulling him close. “You love each other, and you’re living together, and it’s real, and it’s exciting.”

Isak looks over at him, giving him a grin “So soft.”

“Arsehole,” Jonas jokes, pulling his head down to run a rough hand over it and pulling him towards their friends.

*  


“What are all the other Isak and Even’s doing right now?”

“I don’t know? Falling in love?”  

“No. No. They already are.”

“Okay. They’re building a home.”

“Yes. Perfect. They’re finding their way home.”


End file.
